Текст и перевод песни FOYONE - Rap sin corte, Pt. 2

Rap sin corte, Pt. 2

Entre bloque y farolas, ratas y drogas
cucarachas y pistolas, hay muchos en la calle primo
Saben que venden todos los vecinos
pero no dicen nada, son buena gente en verdad
Kilos en la casa pero el se va a trabajar
con las manos llenas de grasa, no le gusta vacilar
gasta en silencio, no importa el precio
el postureo del primer palo a los nenes del colegio
El que se lo toma en serio, no suele estar ampliando
se queda callado hermano, sigue acumulando
no hable demasiado que podrian estar escuchando
el sigue progresando y no comete errores primo
El que viene de la calle siempre cuando rimo
yo solo digo verdades, yo no timo
ni quiere brillo ni se pone cadenas
porque una cadena puede costar una condena
Sigue tranquilito, cocina con hierbabuena
y se le encoge el pecho cada vez que una sirena suena
no quiere pisar la antena por eso andan con cuidao
sale pa la calle y siempre mira para todos lados
Se ha librado demasiadas veces, fiscales y jueces
tiburones y peces dentro de este acuario primo
tiene un sueño de que lo van a encerrar
su padre murio en la carcel y el no la quiere pisar
Van todos al ultimo movimiento
sacarse la plata pa vivir sin sufrimiento
una tonelada sera su ultimo cargamento
mil kilos le separan de sus sueños
Ya esta to arreglao
los policias compraos, con su equipo preparao
llega el martes por la noche, es un velero camuflao
solamente sera un corte y ya todo se abrá acabao
Ya es martes por la noche
los tres de siempre metios en el coche
direccion al puerto, estomagos con nervios
en un par de horas lo tenemos todo resuelto
Vaciaron el pesquero
por la carretera la furgona echando fuego
no se cruza ni un mandero, porque estaban avisaos
pero habian unos en su barrio que se habian enterado
Lo esperaban en la carretera
pusieron unos pinchos y le explotaron las ruedas
la furgona descontrola al final se acabó estrellando
ahí se dieron cuenta de que algo estaba pasando
Tres encapuchaos con hierro apuntandole al cerebro
dijeron no movais ninguno y en medio de un suspiro
acabaron con sus sueños, les robaron los mil kilos
mil kilos es una tonelada, no toas las historias tienen buen final
una tonelada, mil kilos, ahora tienen que pagar lo que han perdido
Rap sin corte XXIX
Uruguay, Foyone
Gharuda en la casa
Manu Beats en la Música

Rap Without Cuts, Pt. 2

Between blocks and streetlights, rats and drugs,
roaches and pistols, there are many out there on the streets, baby.
They know who's selling, all the neighbors,
but they say nothing, they're good people, really.
Kilos in the house, but he goes to work,
with grease-stained hands, he doesn't like to show off.
He spends quietly, the price doesn't matter,
the first-class posturing to the school kids.
The one who takes it seriously doesn't usually brag,
he stays quiet, sister, keeps accumulating.
Don't talk too much, they could be listening,
he keeps progressing and doesn't make mistakes, baby.
The one who comes from the streets, always when I rhyme,
I only speak truths, I don't cheat.
He doesn't want the spotlight, doesn't wear chains,
because a chain can cost you a sentence.
He stays calm, cooks with mint,
and his chest tightens every time a siren sounds.
He doesn't want to step on the antenna, that's why they walk carefully,
he goes out to the street and always looks around.
He's escaped too many times, prosecutors and judges,
sharks and fish inside this aquarium, baby.
He has a dream that they're going to lock him up,
his father died in prison and he doesn't want to set foot in it.
They all go for the last move,
to get the money to live without suffering.
A ton will be his last shipment,
a thousand kilos separate him from his dreams.
Everything is already arranged,
the cops are bought, with his team ready,
Tuesday night arrives, it's a camouflaged sailboat,
it will only be one cut and everything will be over.
It's Tuesday night,
the usual three in the car,
heading to the port, stomachs with nerves,
in a couple of hours we have everything solved.
They emptied the fishing boat,
down the road, the van on fire,
not a single cop crosses, because they were warned,
but there were some in their neighborhood who had found out.
They were waiting for him on the road,
they put some spikes and blew out his tires,
the van loses control, finally ends up crashing,
that's when they realized that something was going on.
Three hooded figures with iron pointed at their brains,
they said don't move any of you and in the middle of a sigh,
they ended their dreams, they stole the thousand kilos.
A thousand kilos is a ton, not all stories have a happy ending.
A ton, a thousand kilos, now they have to pay for what they lost.
Rap Without Cuts XXIX
Uruguay, Foyone
Gharuda in the house
Manu Beats on the Music